


clean sheets and a dirty mind

by crookedspoon



Series: [std] Four Hundreds [10]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fights, Gen, Joseph Kavinsky Lives, Negotiations, POV Adam Parrish, Rehabilitation, Relapsing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12430989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: Adam needs to frame Greenmantle for murder, but doesn't want to have Ronan dream up the necessary items. So he goes to the only other person who can help him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elvamire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvamire/gifts).



> Not exactly as shippy as I'd hoped, but there's only so much I can do in 500 words while also letting my muses _talk._ (They're wordy things.) But who knows, maybe next week's prompt is going to inspire me to continue this. Question mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For #460 "Favor" at slashthedrabble.

Adam hasn't been looking forward to this visit. He never liked Kavinsky, and with everything that's happened his opinion of him has dropped impossibly lower, but.

"I need a favor."

"Perhaps you didn't hear, I no longer sell," Kavinsky says, reclining on his bed. "Might know a guy, depending on your needs."

"Not that kind of favor." Adam eyes Kavinsky's roommate. "Can we go somewhere... more private?"

"Why?" Kavinsky laughs. "Wanna make out with me?"

Adam shoots him a flat stare.

Kavinsky rolls his eyes, but drags him into the adjacent bathroom. The turning lock makes Adam's spine go stiff.

"Spill," Kavinsky says, arms crossed, back against the door.

"I need you to dream me something."

"Not happening."

"You didn't let me finish."

"Don't need you to. Answer's still no."

"I'll put in a good word for you with Ronan."

Kavinsky grimaces and throws up his hands. "I'll make this simple: the meds I'm on rule out any fun dreamtime activities. Else I'd be tempted to throw a party in here every night, to spice up the joint."

When he arrived at the clinic, Adam hadn't expected to feel sympathy for this guy, but he'd be as heartless as Kavinsky if he didn't notice how he's struggling.

Which makes what he's about to offer even more distasteful.

"Would this help?" Adam holds up a green pill. Kavinsky is suddenly very interested. "It's one of yours."

"And lead me not into temptation," Kavinsky hisses as he takes it. "What do you want?"

This is the difficult part. Kavinsky is not involved yet and he doesn't need to be. But Adam cannot ask this of Ronan. By himself, Ronan dreams up light, baby birds, and beautiful things. 

Kavinsky dreams up drugs, fake IDs and false cars. The choice should be easy.

"I want to frame someone for murder," Adam says finally, "and I need evidence."

Kavinsky's head tips back with laughter. "I didn't think you could be fun, Parrish."

"So you'll do it?"

"Give me your shopping list and I'll sneak into Wal-Mart, no prob."

He tells him, quietly, guilt clenching his stomach.

"That's some sick shit." Kavinsky sounds impressed as he pops the pill. "I like it."

He's asleep in moments. Time becomes slippery as Adam watches. Distantly, he hopes Kavinsky's roommate won't need the bathroom anytime soon.

Blood beads around Kavinsky's throat just before he jerks awake with a gasp, a thick manila folder in his lap.

"Here's your wank material," he says as Adam reviews the items. "Extra gruesome. Hope that gets you off."

At the bottom of the folder is a ziplock bag he didn't ask for.

"That's mine," Kavinsky says and snatches it. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Adam feels cold. It should be no skin off his back; Kavinsky made his own decision. 

He tells himself this is still the better outcome than involving Ronan in this task. Yet he can't shake the sick knowledge that he just enabled Kavinsky and dashed the progress he fought for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam couldn't let Kavinsky get away with his little triumph, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For 23. "What's eating you?" at 1mw's [Weekend Challenge](https://1-million-words.livejournal.com/2158210.html?thread=20520066#t20520066) and Day 2 "You Canon-Verse WIP" at wipweek.
> 
> Because, like Adam, I couldn't let this go.

Hours later, Adam still can't shake the memory of what had transpired at the rehab center.

Even when Ronan throws peanuts at him and asks, "What's with the face, Parrish?" while they're both waiting for Gansey, his mind is going back there.

To Kavinsky grabbing the bag with its assortment of colorful pills and what came after.

Adam knew he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he had walked out of there without so much as trying to convince the other boy to stay on track with his rehabilitation.

He's already come that much further than Robert Parrish had ever been willing to go, and Adam would have hated to be the reason for his relapse. Or his facilitator. Kavinsky may have chosen the drugs, but Adam had supplied him with the opportunity to get his hands on them in the first place. 

Adam would like to think it was a calculated risk he took, but for some faulty reason he has equated being in rehab with actually wanting to improve. So he didn't even consider Kavinsky would dream something for himself. Adam's list already sounded complex enough several trips to Cabeswater.

So Adam tried to snatch the plastic baggie back, but of course Kavinsky wouldn't let him have it that easily. They struggled. It turned handsy. At one point, Kavinsky had him pinned to the door, while Adam's hand that was not holding on to the bag was fisting Kavinsky's hair.

"So you do wanna make out," Kavinsky said, so close to Adam's face, his expression sly, his chest heaving against Adam's, his forearm crushing Adam's windpipe.

There was a strange moment when his brain's assessment of the situation was not _danger,_ but _warmth,_ and he realized he had never been this close to another person, not even Blue.

"I can't let you have it," Adam gritted out between his teeth and shoved Kavinsky as hard as he could.

"Wanna fight me for it?" Kavinsky taunted, not taking Adam for a worthy opponent. He may not be, compared to Ronan, but if his life has taught him anything, it's that he can take a beating. And he doubts Kavinsky can dish out as well as Adam's father. "Bring it on."

"Goddamn it, Kavinsky," Adam growled as he kneed him in the stomach. "Are you really going to throw away all the progress you made for a short-lived high? You fought for this, didn't you?"

"Not like I had much choice in the matter," Kavinsky rasped. Bent over, he pulled Adam's legs from under him and Adam went down hard, but he took Kavinsky with him.

"You still got this far," he said, trying to get him into a headlock. "That's not nothing."

"Save it." Kavinsky slithered out of it and sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth. Sometime during all the scuffling, the bag had dropped to the floor and skidded towards the other end of the room.

They both dove for it at the same time, Adam crashing into Kavinsky's back and slamming him to the ground as he did.

"Get off me, you faggot," Kavinsky cursed and tried to throw Adam off, but Adam had his knee planted firmly on Kavinsky's back.

"I'm gonna tell the nurse you have this and then we'll see if they're gonna let you keep it." He leaned a bit more weight than necessary on Kavinsky as he stretched toward the bag.

"What if I told you they're only sugar pills?" Kavinsky wheezed and grabbed Adam's wrist.

"Not taking the chance." Adam shifted his balance and reached for the bag with his free hand.

"That's my payment, asshole." Adam can't tell whether Kavinsky's hiss is meant to convey anger or pain. "I don't see you offering anything of value for services rendered."

"I told you I'd put in a good word for you with Lynch, and that's more than you deserve." Plucking the bag from the corner of the room, Adam dropped it into the toilet, thereby ending their fight over it.

"Goddamn it, you fucker." Kavinsky slammed his fists on the floor. "That's not good enough."

"What else could I offer you?" he asked warily. Adam can't think of anything else that Kavinsky could want, but knowing him, it couldn't be anything legal.

"You could fish out that fucking bag and make sure it's still sealed, for one thing."

"I'll pass." Adam got back onto his feet and flushed the toilet.

"Really?" Kavinsky complained, rolling stiffly onto his back to shoot an accusatory look at Adam. "Did you have to?"

Adam shot one back. "It's for your own good."

"Why the fuck are you that way?" Kavinsky raised his hands toward the ceiling, as if trying to invoke a higher being to help him with his plight. Though he should rather be looking toward the bowels of the Earth for his kin.

Adam said nothing, he just closed the lid and sank down on the toilet, arms crossed. After this scuffle, he was exhausted. But more emotionally than physically. Now that the drugs were gone, he could allow himself to feel tentative relief.

"Can't I catch a fucking break? It's not like I'm here by choice, man." Kavinsky let his head fall back to the ground, rolling it from side to side as if debating whether to say more. Which he does. The guy never had a filter. "Every day I'm sober is a fucking nightmare. I can't escape any of the shit that I did."

"Good," Adam's voice is pitiless, "perhaps you'll actually learn something from it."

"Wow, way to be supportive, asshole." Kavinsky slowly pulled himself to a seated position and slung his arms around his knees, face glowering. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Not like you care."

"You're right, I don't."

Kavinsky's smile could cut him again if he let it. "Least you're honest. Tell me, how's Lynch? Still heartbroken about me burning what we had to the ground I presume."

Adam snorted. It sounded ugly even to his own ears. "You can't destroy something that has never existed in the first place."

Kavinsky raised a furious eyebrow. "Lynch and I are the same. We could have made something out of this life together."

"Dream on. He never liked you."

"Yeah, I don't believe that. We spent some quality time together, before he decided he liked being Dick's bitch better than he liked remaking the world with me."

Despite himself, jealousy bloomed in Adam's chest like blood from a cut. He saw it well up before he felt the pain. He may not feel the same way Ronan does, but ever since he'd noticed Ronan had a crush on him, he'd become possessive of that knowledge and couldn't stand the thought of Ronan harboring feelings for anyone else beside him.

"Ah." A mean grin spread across Kavinsky's face. "Someone's got it bad for Lynch."

"We're done here," Adam said and stood up so abruptly, he kicked Kavinsky in the shin. "I'm leaving."

"Not so fast, Parrish." Kavinsky tripped him. "We're still not even."

Adam stumbled against the bathroom door and glared back over his shoulder. "Tell me what you want, then."

"Proko." Kavinsky hoisted himself to his feet. He swayed when he stood up, like he was going to collapse again any second. Adam clasped hands with him and supported him with an arm beneath his shoulder. "Phew, you're making me all shaky in the knees," Kavinsky attempted to joke, but his weak laughter turned into a groan. "Withdrawal is a bitch."

"What about Prokopenko?" Adam asked.

Kavinsky's gaze sharpened. "Heard he's in the hospital. I want you to check on him."

Adam thought for a moment, but couldn't find any reason to decline that request. It seemed safe enough. "I can do that," he said slowly, still expecting there to be some trap he's overlooking.

"Just let me know how he's doing," Kavinsky said, glaring off to the side. "I need to know if he's alright."

"He's important to you." This revelation was too strange not to say it out loud. It surprised Adam that Kavinsky could care about anyone but himself.

"Of course he is, dickwad," Kavinsky snapped. "I made him."

Another flicker of surprise overcame Adam. Did he mean that Prokopenko is a dream thing like Matthew? If that is the case it would explain why the guy never had anything better to do than hang around Kavinsky all the time. But that applied to the rest of the crew as well, and Kavinsky hadn't asked him to see how they're doing. For which Adam was glad. The less he had to acknowledge their existence, the better.

It struck Adam that Prokopenko was in many ways like Matthew: an unquestioning admirer, a being of few wants except to please, a brother to love him no matter what. Yeah, sounded like just the thing Kavinsky would need. Not like anyone else seemed to love him enough to drop by. Else why would he have to send Adam to see Prokopenko?

Adam stopped himself there. Just because he was racking up similarities between Kavinsky and Ronan, didn't mean he had to reevaluate his opinion of him. Ronan wasn't a nice guy either, and if it hadn't been for Gansey, he probably wouldn't have tolerated for a second.

How things could change, he thought.

"I'll talk to him," Adam said and gathered up the evidence against Greenmantle from the floor. The dripping manila folder had left a dark red smudge on the tiles. "You might want to wipe that up."

Kavinsky snorted. "I'll just say it was your dumb face that bled all over the tiles."

"Whatever works for you." Adam shrugged and turned the folder so the gore wasn't visible anymore. Then he turned the lock.

Kavinsky slapped a hand against the door. "Come back soon to let me know how Proko's doing," he said, before pressing down the handle for Adam. "Maybe next time we can make out, since you've been so eager for that to happen."

"You stay sober until then," Adam warned, "or I won't play messenger anymore."

He fled without looking back, heart throbbing in his temples with the choices he'd made. Someone had to learn from Orpheus' lesson, although Adam had it easier: nothing desirable lay behind him. 

It's not like Kavinsky's rehabilitation meant anything to him, but also he wouldn't want to experience Kavinsky on another high. Joseph Kavinsky might not be a much different creature sober, because he still creeps the hell out of Adam – perhaps even more so now – but there's an unexpected earnestness about him that Adam can relate to. 

He knows what it's like to want to _escape._

Their situations may not be comparable, but a naive part of Adam wants to give Kavinsky the benefit of the doubt. It wants to believe that people can change for the better. His own father has let him down so far, but it's not about him. It's about Adam. Adam wants the possibility of change for himself.

And if Adam can change, why shouldn't other people be allowed to? Even if they're despicable douchebags like Kavinsky.

Perhaps it was a mistake for Adam to involve Kavinsky and to get mixed up with him. Who knows what his visit to Prokopenko might lead to? Adam does not want to be turned into an unwitting drug mule. It would probably be easy for them to slip him something he'd be smuggling into the rehab center for Kavinsky and then Adam's entire struggle with him would have been pointless.

Still he thinks it was the better decision to not trouble Ronan with his request. At least Adam can be assured that Kavinsky wouldn't be losing any sleep over the items Adam had asked him to dream up.

He can, however, already picture Gansey's reaction to this if he were to find out, or Ronan's for that matter.

They'd remind him of what an unwise decision this had been (Gansey in politer terms than Ronan). Had he forgotten how Kavinsky nearly destroyed the world by draining the ley line? Why would Adam purposely give Kavinsky back all that power now that it has been stripped of him, however temporarily?

Adam plucks a peanut from where it has fallen into his lap and pops it into his mouth, trying to banish the afternoon's episode from his mind.

"It's just what my face looks like," Adam retorts. "Get used to it, Lynch."

Ronan blows out a suspicious breath, but lets the matter rest. Adam has Gansey's appearance to thank for that.

Adam is already going over his schedule for the next week as he gets into the Camaro, trying to find some free time to visit Prokopenko in the hospital and some more to go back to Kavinsky in the rehab center.

Theoretically, he does not have to do any of that; he's already received what he wanted from Kavinsky. But Adam considers himself to be honest and a keeper of his word, so it's a matter of pride to do what he's promised to do.

Adam can't imagine things to get any worse between them. Unless they really do turn him into a drug mule, but that's Adam's unshakable suspicion talking rather than a realistic fear.

From now on, he expects smooth sailing.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Clean Sheets" by Endo.
> 
> Tumblr post for reblogging convenience can be found [here](https://crookedspoonfic.tumblr.com/post/167045486270/wip-week-day-2-canon-verse-wip).


End file.
